


Old Year's Eve

by St_Salieri



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Season/Series 06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-04
Updated: 2010-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-25 09:31:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/637480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/St_Salieri/pseuds/St_Salieri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dawn discovers a secret Buffy has been keeping.  Takes place between <i>Wrecked</i> and <i>Gone</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Year's Eve

 

Dawn winced at the crash that came from the living room.

"Is that a lamp?" she called over her shoulder. "Because Buffy will kill you if it's a lamp."

She dropped the bag of potato chips on the counter and studied the open pantry critically. One bag left, and then she'd have to break out the corn chips and salsa. Although...with the cheese in the fridge, maybe she could talk Xander into making a plate of nachos. Not like she'd have to talk very hard.

"Not a lamp," Xander said, ambling into the kitchen and grabbing the potato chips. "A glass, and Willow already magicked it back together. No biggie." He leaned on the counter and ripped the bag open. "Do me a favor, Dawnie? Get Willow to stop bogarting the stereo. I've had my fill of the chick rock."

Dawn nodded, trying to keep her Grown Up face on, but inside she was glowing. She was the Hostess With the Mostest, and she had it completely under control. "Not a problem," she said seriously.

Her proud, shiny moment was deflated slightly when Xander ruffled her hair before returning to the living room - what was she, five? - but she couldn't quite keep the grin from her face. It was the start of a new year, and after finishing up the Year of Suckiness, it was time for something good to start happening for her. And so far, everything was going just fine. Sure, Xander and Anya were making a little too much with the PDA, and Tara wasn't there, but everyone was having a great time and she was in charge.

At least, she was until Buffy came walking through the back door.

"Oh," Dawn said, unaccountably disappointed. "You made it."

Now she'd get a lecture about how something had been spilled, and hints would be dropped that the should really be in bed, like she was she was still eight and trying to stay up past midnight.

"I said I would," Buffy said, wincing as she grabbed her shoulder. "I just had to do a quick patrol first."

It was then that Dawn noticed the blood dripping through Buffy's fingers and splattering onto the tile floor.

"You're hurt!" she said, grabbing a dishtowel and pressing it against Buffy's shoulder. It wasn't like they had many towels left that hadn't already been pressed into service for cleaning up blood and guts and demony pieces.

"It's not too bad," Buffy said, leaning against the refrigerator and gingerly easing her arms from her coat. "Although my new sweater is ruined." She took the towel from Dawn and held it to her own shoulder, and Dawn fell back, ready to be dismissed to the living room. Instead, Buffy stopped her with a look.

"Would you help me?"

And just like that, the glow was back. Dawn rummaged under the sink for the first aid kit and wound the white gauze around her sister's upper arm. Buffy perched on the stool and took in the open bags and bottles, smiling tiredly at the music.

"Sounds like quite the party. Is everyone behaving themselves?"

Dawn nodded and yanked the ends of the tape tighter, the way she knew Buffy liked it.

"Yeah, so far. No deaths, dismemberments or disembowlings. I've got it all under control. So...what happened to you?"

Buffy sighed and rotated her shoulder, nodding approval at the bandaging job. "Demons. Three of them. I'm not quite sure what they were, to tell you the truth, but they were trying to eat a couple of frat boys. That puts them in the category marked 'evil'...mostly."

"So, research?" Normally Dawn loved a good research party, but she was strangely reluctant to break up the festivities in the next room now that everything was running so smoothly on her watch. She was relieved when Buffy shook her head.

"No, don't bother. I already killed one of them and wounded another before they took off. I'll just track them down and finish them off, then be back for pizza."

She stood up and slipped her coat back on, making a moue of disgust at the blood stains on the lapel.

"But...it's our party!" Dawn said, in-chargeness forgotten in the desire to see everyone together to ring the old year out. "You should be here! It's only an hour or so till midnight. Can't you wait for the morning?"

"Hey!" Xander called from the other room. "Is that Buffy I heard? Did she come in?"

 _Yes_ , Dawn was about to yell in reply, ready to apply all the pressure it took to get Buffy to stay, but she caught sight of her sister's pale face and the words died in her throat. Buffy was staring at the kitchen door as if she were expecting a hellhound to walk through at any minute. There were lines around her eyes that Dawn hadn't seen before. All of a sudden, she looked as if she hadn't slept in a week. Maybe she hadn't.

"No," Dawn called, swallowing around the lump in her throat. "She's not here yet."

Buffy nodded gratefully, a ghost of a smile touching her eyes. "Thanks," she whispered. "I just...I can't right now. You understand, right?"

She didn't, not really, but Dawn nodded anyway. "Are you sure you're okay to go back out? That shoulder looked pretty bad."

Buffy nodded and leaned down to tighten the laces on her boots. "Yeah, they weren't that tough. Now they're down to two - well, one and a half - so it shouldn't take me that long. I need to keep the world safe for drunk college boys everywhere. It's hard, dirty work, but that's what they pay me the big bucks for."

The joke fell flat. Dawn rolled her eyes and grabbed the knife she knew Buffy kept behind the cereal boxes - for what purpose, Dawn couldn't fathom. "Here," she said, sliding it across the counter. "Look, can you at least get Spike to help you? And then you could bring him back with you for pizza?" she added hopefully.

Buffy's fingers froze on the laces for a moment, a pause so brief that Dawn almost didn't catch it. Almost. "I don't think that's such a good idea," she said lightly, rubbing at an imaginary grass stain on her knee. She took the knife Dawn had left for her and gave her a quick, one-armed hug. "Don't stay up too late, and don't let Xander make nachos in the microwave unless he swears to clean it up afterward."

Dawn rolled her eyes. "I've totally got it under control. You don't have anything to worry about."

Buffy smiled, but the tiredness didn't leave her eyes. "Nope. I'm No-Worry Buffy tonight." She slipped out the back door, sticking her head in one final time to point at the glass Dawn had forgotten on the counter. "And that had better be sparkling cider, or you're grounded for a hundred years!" And then she disappeared.

Dawn rolled her eyes, disgusted at herself for not getting the last word in, and took her glass of cider into the living room to sort out the issues with the stereo. A hostess's job was never done.

 

********************

It was just past sunrise when she locked the front door behind her, shivering at the early morning chill. The dew beaded on the grass, making the front lawn sparkle, and her breath shivered out of her in a pale fog. _I'm a dragon,_ she couldn't help thinking, remembering how much she'd loved really cold days when she was little, when she could pretend they lived somewhere where there was real winter.

Willow and Xander had both assured her that Buffy was just fine. "You know how she gets," Willow had said soothingly. "She's probably just off chasing a beastie. If she's not back for breakfast, I can do a locator spell.

Dawn had held her tongue about Buffy's quick appearance at the house last night - and her injury - but quietly made up her mind to do her own searching once the safety of daylight had come. It was a new day - a new year - and she was still In Charge. She was old enough to walk around town by herself in the daytime, wasn't she? It wasn't like anything was going to hurt her at that hour.

Still, she walked quickly through the cemetery on the way to Spike's crypt. The shadows still lay piled deep around the gravestones and mausoleums at this hour, untouched by the sunlight that hadn't yet crept above the level of the treetops. Dawn clutched her stake tighter, wondering what on Earth had possessed her to bring it with her instead of something a little more practical - like a knife, or a bazooka. If anything was going to jump out at her at this hour, it would be Frat-Boy-Eating Demons, not vampires.

The door of Spike's crypt creaked as she opened it, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she pushed it closed behind her and put her back against it.

"Spike?" she called, her voice tiny in the still air. She could still see her breath in the cold, and she shivered as the chill crept beneath the edges of her jacket. "Are you here?" she called again, louder this time. The TV was off and everything was silent. Maybe he was asleep already, or maybe he'd gone out last night and wasn't home yet. Maybe he was off helping Buffy.

After letting her eyes adjust to the gloom, she noticed a faint glow coming from the other end of the crypt where there was a hole in the ground to leading to the lower levels. Spike didn't generally let her down there, but naturally she'd snooped around and knew there was a bed and some clothes and some really cool weapons, as well as access to the sewers. Cautiously she crept closer to the opening and eased herself down the ladder. The glow was much stronger now, coming from below - a lamp, or maybe some candles.

Dawn backed down the ladder and turned around. Spike was there, but her greeting died in her throat.

He was in bed.

And so was her sister.

And as far as she could tell, neither of them was wearing anything.

Buffy lay sprawled on her stomach, dead asleep, a comforter bunched around her waist with one bare foot sticking out. Dawn could see the curve of her breasts pressed against the mattress, her spine etched against the skin of her back, the bandage still wound around her upper arm. She was breathing deeply, completely oblivious, all loose limbs and rosy cheeks.

Spike's hand was tangled in her hair, as if he'd been combing it with his fingers just moments before. He was sitting bolt upright next to Buffy's curled form, the blanket clutched tightly in his lap. And oh God, he was awake, and he was staring at Dawn with eyes as big as saucers.

For the longest moment they stared dumbly at each other. Dawn could feel a shaking welling up in her stomach, and she clamped her lips together for fear that she would break out in hysterical laughter, even though this wasn't really funny at all.

"Oh," she finally said, very faintly, then shut her eyes at the sheer stupidity of such an inane comment.

"It's not..." Spike cleared his throat and tried again. "It's not what you think. See..."

Dawn raised her eyebrows incredulously, and Spike collapsed back against the headboard.

"Yeah, alright," he said a bit sheepishly. "It's exactly what you think."

He ran his fingers through his mussed hair, clearly trying to collect his thoughts, and Dawn found herself blushing and averting her eyes. He was still wearing his jewelry - necklace, bracelet, rings - and there was something almost unbearably intimate in seeing him that way, knowing that he was wearing nothing else beneath the covers. And she'd totally seen him shirtless before, so that shouldn't have been a big deal, but he'd changed a bit over the last six months. He was all lean, ropey muscles, skin stretched tight across the spareness of his flesh. _Hey, have you been working out?_ she almost said, and caught herself just in time. He looked as if he was starving, and at the same time almost...sated. And oh God, she was going to set something on fire if her face got any redder.

"Is everything okay?" Spike finally said. "Is something wrong?" He searched the floor for a moment with his eyes before giving up, and Dawn wondered if he was looking for his pants. She caught sight of a pair of Buffy's underwear peeking out from under the bed and shut her eyes.

"No," she said, opening them and focusing blankly on a pair of swords leaning against the wall on the other side of the room. "I was just...Buffy didn't come home last night, and there were these demons. She was hurt, and I wanted to make sure....Well, I told her she should get you to help her out, and I guess...you kinda did."

She trailed off, grimacing at how just how neatly her foot fit within her mouth. At this rate, she wouldn't have to worry about Buffy killing her because she'd be long dead of embarrassment.

"They're dead. The demons, that is," Spike said. "We took care of them." He cleared his throat again, clearly at a loss for words, and Dawn wondered if it was possible he felt more awkward than she did.

This was the point at which a real grownup would say something worldy and amusing, maybe give a knowing wink before heading right back up the ladder. But Dawn felt as if her feet were rooted to the ground, all pretensions of being an adult completely vanished. It wasn't like she didn't know her sister had had sex before. She'd caught Riley sneaking out of Buffy's bedroom with a grin on his face, and she'd gagged and threatened to tell mom. But this was different - _completely_ different - and Dawn couldn't tell if it was because Buffy was different or she herself was. She couldn't believe she'd once been young enough to find this gross and off-putting - and she couldn't believe that she'd ever be old enough to do anything about the wild yearnings that rose within her at the thought that one day _she_ might have someone to....

Dawn raised her eyes to Spike, and he clutched the blanket tighter about his waist as if afraid it would vanish. It almost made her smile, but she couldn't make her mouth form the shape. There were so many questions she wanted to ask, so many things she wanted to _know_ all bubbling up inside her, but the only thing that made its way out was -

"How long?"

Spike understood what she meant. "A few weeks," he said softly, glancing at Buffy sleeping beside him. His look was unbearably tender, as if the sight of her sister drooling on his pillow was the most wonderful thing he'd ever seen.

"Oh," she said, suddenly noticing the scratches and what looked like bite marks that littered his chest. "Are you okay? Did the demons...?"

Spike looked puzzled, then glanced down at himself and fingered one of the cuts. "No demons," he said. Dawn almost didn't catch the smirk that flitted across his face.

"She hurt you." It wasn't a question. She just didn't understand why he looked so pleased by it.

"Hey," Spike said, looking her full in the face for the first time during this whole awkward mess. "She didn't do anything to me I didn't want her to do." He cast his eyes heavenward, as if pleading for assistance. "And I can't believe I'm discussing this with you," he muttered under his breath.

Dawn folded her arms across her chest and gave him her best glare. "And I can't believe I'm finding out about you guys like _this!_ " The world had righted itself, and she felt firmly self-righteous and in charge again, as it should be.

Buffy stirred, and both of them froze until she had settled herself more comfortably against the pillows and fallen into a deeper slumber. Dawn watched as Spike smoothed her hair back gently, then pulled his hand away as if he'd forgotten that he had company.

"She's sleeping," he said, as if that was explanation enough, and it was. Dawn couldn't remember the last time she'd seen Buffy so completely relaxed, almost boneless. She'd spent the last months listening to her sister wear a groove in the rug of her bedroom, pacing back and forth when she should have been sleeping. Seeing her like this reminded her of the way things should be, the way things used to be, back when her mom would tuck them in and then wake them for pancakes in the morning.

She watched Buffy sleep for a long moment, and for the first time in months she felt as if her sister was truly back with her.

Dawn wiped at the corner of her eyes, hoping Spike hadn't seen her moment of childishness. If he had, he didn't say anything, and for that she was grateful.

"Okay," she whispered. "I should probably...." She gestured vaguely in the direction of the ladder. Spike regarded her with wary eyes.

"You won't say anything?" he asked quietly.

It hurt that she was seeing Buffy unawares like this, that Buffy hadn't trusted her enough to tell her that she was seeing...that she was sleeping with....Dawn's mind skittered over the details, not wanting to look too closely for fear of being trapped in quicksand. She didn't know if she was more angry at not being told, or hurt that she herself hadn't been the one able to bring Buffy a moment of peace, no matter how hard she'd tried. But it was a good hurt, somehow - a grownup hurt. It was a hurt she would have to keep secret, but it didn't burn her the way secrets usually did.

She knew suddenly that this was the way she could be the adult for Buffy. And she knew the answer to Spike's question.

"No," she said. "I'll wait for her to tell me."

Dawn turned her back to them and climbed up the ladder, listening as Spike settled once more beneath the covers. She felt about ten years older than when she'd first come into the crypt. The sun had risen fully by the time she made her way outside, and she took deep breaths of the cold, still air. She left Spike's crypt behind and walked east out of the cemetery, into the rising sun, into the new year.

 


End file.
